


Personal Demons

by Sapphy, SapphyWatchesYouSleep (Sapphy)



Series: The Act for the Defence of the Human Genome [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Bodyswap, Crack, Demons, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Patrick has personal demons, Ridiculous, Rock Stars all have superpowers, Were-Creatures, Werewolves, and Pete Wentz is a drug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphy/pseuds/Sapphy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphy/pseuds/SapphyWatchesYouSleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst thing about being body-swapped is definitely Gerard's tendency to spontaneously combust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Demons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KattsEyeDemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KattsEyeDemon/gifts).



> So this takes place during an entirely fictional FOB/MCR joint tour, at an entirely fictional festival.
> 
> None of this happened (the superpowers should be the clue there).
> 
> Don't google yourself. Seriously. If this is about you, stop reading.
> 
> I own nothing except a cat and a laptop.
> 
> Extra love to people who spot the vague Darren Shan reference  
>  
> 
> Gifting this to Katt, just because I love her x

When he’s put out his bed sheets (scorched rayon, not a good smell) Frank goes to find Gerard. At least he hopes it’s Gerard. It’s going to be hard to keep track if _everyone’s_ switched bodies.

“Hi,” he says, glaring down at his own body. “You’d better be Gerard.”

The him that isn’t currently him looks at him, all wide eyed innocent surprise, and yeah, that’s definitely Gerard. Gerard sniffs and grins at him. It’s horribly weird seeing Gerard’s smile on his own face.

“You tried wanking without lube, didn’t you?” Gee says.

“I couldn’t find any,” Frank begins, suddenly defensive. Then he remembers why he smells of burning and adds, “Your cock is fucking flammable, Gee.”

Gerard nods. “It’s a problem,” he offers. “Also it’s all of me. Don’t hug anyone. That takes practise.”

“Were you ever going to tell me you have fucking superpowers?” he demands, because he is not under any circumstances going to ask how Gee manages to have sex.

Gerard shrugs. “Maybe. One day. It’s not an easy thing to bring up. By the way, I think you have some kind of ADHD.”

Frank can’t help but feel that’s not the most important thing that’s happening. “It’s the full moon next Tuesday,” he explains. “I started feeling the effects really early this month. I think it’s probably the stress of the tour. Or maybe those pills Bob warned me not to take.”

Gerard does his awkward flail, and it’s even more awkward in Frank’s body. “You’re a werewolf?!” he demands incredulously. “You’re pissed with me for not mentioning that I’m irritatingly flammable and you never mentioned that you’re a fucking werewolf?!”

And yeah, Frank can maybe see how that would have surprised his singer. “I’m not actually a werewolf,” he offers. “I’m half human. I can’t shift or anything. I just get antsy around the full moon. Hugging Mikey helps for some reason,” he adds, when it becomes clear that the excess energy is really starting to freak Gerard out.

Gee nods. “That makes sense,” he says. “His erm, his power is that he’s like… endothermic, maybe? Don’t think that’s the right word. But, like, most people create their own energy, from food and sleep and stuff. Mikey doesn’t. He pulls it out of the environment around him. That’s why he breaks electrical stuff so easily.”

Frank had always wondered how it was possible to go through three ipods in a month.

“Okay,” Frank says, trying to think properly. “I’m not a werewolf, you and Mikey are fucking X-Men. We should probably talk about that more. When we’re not fucking bodyswapped.”

“We might not be body swapped,” Gerard offers. Frank just glares. He’s pretty damn sure his dick doesn’t catch fire if he wanks with too little lube. “No, I mean, it might have been Pete who did this. And if it was, then we’re not actually body swapped, just hallucinating that we are. Like, you’re actually me, thinking that you’re you.”

“Of-fucking-course Pete Wentz is a psychic,” Frank exclaims. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“He generates low levels of electricity,” Gerard interjects. “They fuck with your brain waves.”

“So we get him to fix it, right?”

“He doesn’t wake up till like five in the afternoon. And no way will he help if we wake him up.”

“So I’m stuck in your body for the next six hours, and I can’t even have a wank?” Frank demands. “That is seriously fucking unfair.”

“You can have a wank if you like,” Gerard says. “You just need a fuck load of lube, or Mikey.”

Frank’s brain does a sort of slow ‘I’m sure I heard that wrong’ double take thing. It’s a feeling he’s becoming used to. “Did you just say that your body can’t get off without your fucking brother?” he demands. “What the fuck Gee?”

Gerard just shrugs, like that’s perfectly normal. Although given that he lives in a world where body-swaps happen and Pete Wentz is a fucking hallucinogen (and if anyone was going to be, of course it would be Pete) maybe to him, it is. “Endothermic, exothermic,” Gerard says, like that explains everything. “We balance out.”

Frank honestly can’t think of single thing to say in response to that, so he sticks for saying, “We need to tell the rest of the band.”

Gerard nods. He thumps the bottom of the bunk above his and yells, “Mikey, emergency protocol five,” at the top of Frank’s, not inconsiderable, lungs. He’s apparently forgotten that he’s in Frank’s bunk, because the first reaction he gets is Ray swearing at him.

A moment later Mikey appears from behind the curtains of his bunk, half climbing, half falling, out of it.

“Frank, what the fuck do you know about emergency protocol five?” he demands. “And what’s on fire?”

“Nothing’s on fire,” Gerard assures him. “I just thought that would be the easiest way to get you up. And I’m not Frank, by the way. That’s Frank.”

Frank waves, and tries not to get distracted by how damn long Gerard’s arms are.

Mikey groans. “Please tell me this is a joke. Or that Pete’s finally figured out how to get his power to work on me.”

Gerard shakes his head. “Bonafide body swap,” he tells him. “And Frank set my cock on fire. And I really need a hug right now, because this body thinks it’s going to turn into a wolf or something.”

Mikey probably doesn’t understand half of that, but his expression doesn’t change, he just tucks himself into the bunk and wraps his arms tightly around Frank’s body until the twitching’s mostly stopped.

By the time Gerard’s energy levels are approaching normal, the rest of the band are awake. Frank can here Ray shuffling around in his bunk, but it’s Bob who appears first. He looks straight at Gerard’s body and says, “Hello Frank.”

Gerard peers at him from the circle of Mikey’s arms. “Did you do this?” he asks.

Bob nods. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to. Just, erm, sometimes my dreams come true. And I have really fucked up dreams.”

Ray’s head appears over the edge of his bunk. His hair looks even bigger upside down. “What the fuck’s going on?” he demands. “I was trying to sleep.”

“Bob used his superpower to body-swap me and Gerard,” Frank explains.

“I didn’t mean too,” Bod says defensively.

Ray sighs. “Will you be okay if I get a couple more hours sleep before I fix it? That’s gonna take a lot of energy.”

“You can fix it?” Frank demands, excitedly.

“Probably,” Ray says. “Haven’t tried yet. I’m going back to sleep.” His head disappears.

“I should go wait in the lounge,” Mikey says with a yawn. “If Ray’s gonna need energy.”

“You sound tired,” Frank comments, while the others fumble for hoodies and tshirts.

Mikey shrugs. “I’m always tired,” he says. “’Specially when Gee hasn’t fed me.”

Frank takes a step back. “You’re not gonna drink my blood are you?” he asks, because he doesn’t like the hungry way Mikey’s looking at him.

Gerard laughs. “We’d better do this outside,” he says. “It could get messy.”

**oOOOo**

Turns out, when Gerard and Mikey disappear off together every morning, it’s so Gerard can feed Mikey fire. Or something. Frank had always assumed they went to get coffee.

He only just manages to stop himself screaming when he rubs his fingers together like Gerard showed him and his hand is engulfed in a ball of white flame. Mikey leans in closer than Frank thinks is a good idea and brings his hands up to almost touch the flame. Before Frank can say anything, he feels a weird cold sucking sensation and the flame begins to shrink, until it eventually vanishes. When it’s gone Mikey looks better, less exhausted.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Gerard asks. “I think everything’s gonna taste pretty weird, using someone else’s taste buds. But I’m fucking starving. And I bet you’ve got pretty killer caffeine withrdrawal.”

That would explain why Frank feels like pixies are pounding his head with tiny, but very heavy, hammers.

“Something tingly,” Mikey says.

Gerard laughs. “I wanted to know what Frank wanted Mikes. Some of us can’t just stick our fingers into a fucking socket.”

“Ooo, good idea. I haven’t had mains electricity for ages!”

Frank considers saying something, but on reflection he decides there is absolutely nothing he can say to make this less weird.

“Whatever we do,” Gerard says decidedly, “Frank needs coffee.” Frank’s never agreed with anyone more in his life.

**oOOOo**

It takes three cups before the caffeine goblins stop kicking his skull from the inside. Gerard keeps shaking his head and being smug about the fact that he didn’t wake up in pain.

They’re stopped for a couple of days, playing a two day festival somewhere in Texas (Frank is pretty sure someone told him where at some point), which means actual catering, rather than poptarts and cereal. Frank gets to get his own back for the caffeine addiction when he reminds Gerard of all the many many things he can’t eat while living in Frank’s meat suit.

They’re in the middle of a spirited discussion about whether it counts as Frank breaking his vegetarianism if Gerard has a bacon sandwich when Bob comes in, looking sleepy and shamefaced.

He hovers by their table for a minute, like he thinks he won’t be welcome.

Frank grins at him. “We’re totally not angry dude. It’s not like you’re the only freak on this tour.”

Bob’s smile is small and tight, but it’s there, so Frank figures it’s all good.

“So what the deal with the others?” Frank asks Gerard. He takes a bite of his eggs and pulls a face. Gerard’s taste buds are weeeeeeird. “I mean, from what you’ve been saying, sounds like I’m the closest thing to a human on the tour.”

“The techs are mostly normal humans,” Bob says with a shrug. “Except Sanjit. He got some kind of computer-based super power.”

“And Fallout Boy?”

Mikey ticks off on his fingers. “Pete’s hallucinogenic, Jon’s got some kind of shapeshifting thing going on, Andy… I have no idea, but it involves him eating loads of spinach.”

Frank’s not going to ask. “And Patrick?”

“Patrick has some issues with personal demons.”

“Like… addictions, mental illness?”

“No. Like actual demons. Apparently they’re genetic.”

“How did I not know any of this?” Frank demands. He’s feeling kinda left out. “Wait, how did _you_ know all this?”

Mikey shrugs. “Pete’s power doesn’t work on me. He wanted to know why. And Gee kinda set Jon on fire.”

Frank watches a blush rise up his own cheeks. “My watch got caught in his hair. I was trying to get it free. Friction happened.”

“And then explosions happened.” Mikey adds. “Apparently Gee, plus demonic energy, not a good combination. It was weirdly salty.”

Frank thinks he’s beginning to understand how this works. “That was the first weekend on tour wasn’t it? When you were really hyper?” He spoke multiple times in one day and moved his face and everything.

Mikey shrugs. “Probably. When you guys have finished eating, can we maybe go break into Fallout’s bus?” he demands petulantly. “I’m huuuuuungry.”

Gerard huffs soft laughter and puts down his veggie bacon sandwich. “Come on,” he says. “This tastes like cheese. Weird cheese.”

**oOOOo**

Considering how popular Fallout are, the security on their bus is kinda shit. Frank is pretty impressed with how quickly Mikey gets the door open (although that’s probably partly due to Frank threatening to melt the lock off if he doesn’t hurry up. It’s colder than he feels Texas has any right to be).

The first thing Mikey does inside the bus is produce two paperclips. He sits on one of the seats while he carefully unfolds them, then before Frank has time to properly freak out about it, he sticks them into the socket on the wall beside him.

“Has to be two,” he says, his teeth chattering slightly. “It’s a safety thing.”

And okay, Frank grew up with a werewolf for a dad, and he knows when the full moons are without ever checking a calendar and he can smell when a girl is on her period, and yeah it’s not like he didn’t know his band were a bit weird, but standing in Fallout’s bus watching Mikey Way deliberately electrocute himself kinda takes the biscuit, in terms of weirdness.

Gerard sniffs and pulls a face. “Okay, I seriously could have done without knowing that Pete’s jacking it in his bunk right now,” and Frank grins because now Gerard knows his pain. “What’s that smell…”

“Damp synthetic fur,” Frank tells him, because some things stay with you. No matter how hard you try and wipe them from your brain. “Really really don’t ask.”

There a vague sort of groaning noise from the bunks and a moment later Pete appears, wearing only a pair of dubiously clean boxers, his hair exploding out from his head like he’s got a static shock. Which, Frank reflects, he probably technically has.

“What the fuck do you want?” Pete asks, glaring at them. “You’re interrupting my Pete Wentz appreciation time you bastards, and that’s a fucking hanging offense.”

Mikey’s slid of the sofa to slump on the floor next to the socket, still holding his bits of bent wire.

“Ray needs to save his energy to do big magic later,” he says, grinning up at Pete like he’s fucking high. “So I came to steal your electricity. And they came too. They were awake, and Frank set his bed on fire.”

Pete smiles down at Mikey, that special Pete-n-Mikey smile that’s somewhere between adorable and creepy as hell. If anything, Frank thinks the fact that they’re no longer having sex has made their relationship even more disturbing.

“If you’ve drained the batteries again,” he says, obviously trying for severe but missing it by several miles, “You’re paying for a new one.” Mikey just smiles agreeable. “Okay, so Mikey’s here to steal our power. Why the fuck are you lot here?”

Pete is definitely not at his best in the mornings. Frank’s pretty sure it’s technically still morning. Just.

“We followed Mikes,” Gerard says, smiling down at his brother. “We didn’t think you’d be awake and you know what he’s like if he has too much.”

“I do,” Pete says, surprised. “I didn’t know you did.”

“Oh,” Gerard says, calm as if he’s reporting the weather, “I’m Gerard today. Frank’s in my body. It’s a thing.”

Pete just nods, like that’s not even weird. Frank wonders vaguely whether Pete’s powers work on himself. It would explain a lot.

“So the guys were telling me everyone on this fucking tour has super-powers,” Frank says. He’s not fishing for information. Much. He’s just making conversation.

“The tech guy with all the star wars t-shirts keeps locking my phone and refusing to tell me the new password,” Pete says glumly. “Fucker thinks he’s funny.”

Frank’s not entirely sure that’s connected to the conversation he thought they were having.

“I keep telling Patrick,” Pete continues, “all human techs, definitely the way to go. But when we were first starting out, one of the demons tried to eat this girl.”

“Who?” Frank asks. There’s a trick to having a conversation with Pete Wentz, most of which consists of allowing yourself to be tugged along by the tide of his thought processes.

“I can never remember their names. Azrael? Aziriphael? Soemthing like that. Definitely got a z in it.”

“I think he meant who was the girl,” Mikey says from the floor.

Pete turns to stare at him, like he’d genuinely forgotten he was there. If Frank concentrates, he can detect a faint blurring to Pete’s form, like the picture on a TV that’s not quite tuned in right. He wonders if anyone but Mikey actually knows what Pete looks like.

“I dunno. It was some shitty little local festival somewhere. She was doing the lighting. She threw Patrick a water bottle, it hit him in the face. The demons kinda over-reacted. Since then, he’s had a thing about human techs. Thinks they’re all going to run away or drop dead or something.”

There’s movement on the floor and a tiny creature appears. It’s about the size and shape of a small dog, its skin a mottled green, but with bird’s feet and a horribly human face. It scampers up to Pete and snaps at his ankle, razor sharp teeth just missing his leg. It could almost be cute, if it wasn’t so horrible.

“Sorry little guy,” Pete says to it. “We’ll go somewhere else now, okay?”

It makes a small noise that sounds like agreement and scampers over to Mikey. He grins when it butts its head against his hand and strokes it gently.

“Hey Naxor,” he says, tickling under its chin. “You’re a good little demon, looking after Patrick.”

His voice has gone soft and gentle, like he’s talking to a puppy.

The thing makes a noise that could be pleasure or could be rage (it’s pretty much impossible to tell) and pops out of existence with a brief sucking noise.

Mikey scrambles to his feet, his movement’s lacking that lazy slowness Frank’s used to seeing, and takes Pete’s hand. For people who aren’t fucking they’re very touchy-feely, although given that humping Gerard is basically Frank’s job, he’s hardly in a position to judge.

“Come on,” Bob says. “I really need a fucking cigarette.”

**oOOOo**

They’re sitting on the short dry grass outside Fallout’s bus, smoking and drinking yet more coffee, Naxor (who Frank has decided is cute, despite it’s weird scaley green skin) curled up on Mikey’s lap making contented little purring sounds, when Ray finally appears. Somehow, despite having only just woken up, Ray manages to look more awake than any of them, except maybe Mikey, who’s kinda buzzing from all the electricity.

“So,” he says, towering over them all, a small frown on his face, “Let’s get this fixed. Bob, are you human?”

Bob looks slightly taken aback, like he thinks that’s a rude question. “Yes,” he says. “Of course I am.”

Ray nods, hair bouncing. “This shouldn’t be too hard then. I can’t do anything about fairy magic, and I really don’t get on with demonic energy, but if it’s just superpowers I should be okay.”

He touches a hand to Frank’s forehead, another to Gerard’s, and closes his eyes.

Naxor pops out of existence and Mikey mutters, “Oh fuck,” and scrambles away, pulling Pete with him.

Ray begins muttering under his breath, some language Frank doesn’t recognise, and then he becomes aware a weird sucking sensation, inside his skull. The pressure builds until it’s almost painful, and then there’s a bizarre moment where Frank’s in both bodies, four hands and two sets of eyes, seeing Ray from two angles simultaneously, and then he’s home, back in his own body.

He wants to cheer or yell or hug Ray, but all he can actually manage is a slightly hysterical laugh.

Gerard scrambles to his feet. He rubs his hands against his face until his head and hands burst into flame, almost invisible in the morning light. Despite looking like something from the opening of one of the more dramatic hospital dramas, he’s grinning like being on fire is all he’s ever wanted.

“Fuck that’s better,” he says, with a deep sigh. He shakes himself like a dog to put out the flames and collapses back down onto the grass. His collar and cuffs are scorched, but his hair isn’t.

Frank closes his eyes, feels the pull of the moon itching just under his skin, smells dirt and grass and fire and his band and lets out a great sigh of relief. It’s good to be home.

“I didn’t know you were a Fairy,” Mikey says, looking suspiciously at Ray.

“Only a quarter,” Ray says. “I don’t usually use my powers.”

“So is it just our bands that are special, or is it the whole scene?” Frank demands.

“Not the whole scene, but a lot of it,” Pete replies. “I mean, most of Panic have powers, and Star-Ship.”

Mikey pulls a face. “Gabe’s power is kinda like mine, only, you know, sexual. We hooked up once. Passed out half way through cos we were draining so much energy from one another, didn’t wake up for two days. We kinda… avoid each other now,” he explains, when Frank looks a question at him.

“So, let me get this straight,” Frank says, because he’s kind of freaking out. “Pretty much everyone in every band we know is special, and it’s been two years since the law was passed that gave us the same rights as human beings, and there are kids out there freaking the hell out because they can do stuff their friends cant, and no fucking rock band has come out?!”

Gerard stares at him, like he’s grown an extra head. Then he grabs Frank and kisses him. “You are a fucking genius Frank!”

**oOOOo**

That night on stage, Ray glows with a soft inner light and Gerard blows balls of white hot fire into the sky between songs, and Frank tips back his head and howls to the moon. There are answering shouts, other shifters and kids who are too exciting not to make noise, and bursts of brilliant light from among the crowd, and he’s pretty sure some of the kids are actually levitating. It’s the best show they’ve ever played. 


End file.
